I cannot fathom the exact number of times I've been asked the question "Do you speak Indian?" or received the surprised "You don't have an accent at all!" It is a bit irritating explaining to my new acquaintance that "No, there is no such language as Indian" or "I was actually born in California" constantly. This particular brand of ignorance is not something I resent, since being Indian in America is something you grow accustomed to, along with that undeniable social stereotype. As far as typecasts go, being labeled the "smart math and science" people is not bad by any standards, yet being packaged away into a neat box is not in the least appealing.
I guess from an objective stance I am a typical Indian "stereotype", smart overachiever with pre-med stamped all over my brown, ethnic face. I've been dismissed as a "brain" for most of my academic life, approached for homework answers and used as a human assignment planner. I tend to thrive among my own kind, with those apt at understanding my unique brand of high brow humor and frantic obsession over schoolwork. It boggles people how some students actually enjoy school, not for its gossipy social perks, but for the allure of learning something new and practical. Very few look beyond the veneer of high school hierarchy, unheeding of the people under the "jock" label or "band geek" tag. This Lilliputian thinking is especially frustrating for someone who has visited three continents and has repeatedly observed that such narrow-mindedness is not very feasible in today's diverse society. The banal labels unfortunately extend worldwide and cannot be reversed without complete social chaos.
However, as a DoDDS (Department of Defense Dependents School) kid, I encountered a new universe containing a mere ghost of this reign of pigeonhole. Moving every two years makes the depreciating labels impractical, so when I first stepped into Edgren High School in Misawa, Japan, I met with a pleasant surprise. The cliques still existed, but the boundaries were more like velvet ropes than barbed wire fences. A band geek could be the star quarterback of the football team, and the most popular girl in school could be head of the chastity club. Anything seemed possible and for the first time I got an inkling of what college, that mysterious assorted terrain of ultimate academia, might resemble.
The most significant difference discernible was the open-mindedness my peers had in vast quantities; there was an acute awareness that the world was bigger than the state border and people were essentially different. Nowhere else did I find people who wanted to look past the "stereotype" and see real human intentions. I was still essentially "the brain" whom teachers considered the failsafe for answers to questions in a cricket-quiet classroom, but in Japan I was also the smart Indian who loved to act and write skits. I was the five foot-one inch thespian who played the baritone saxophone, a vast instrument rivaling her miniscule height. I was the slightly OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) girl who didn't live in her textbooks, but had a busy life full of crazy friends and fun weekends. Without the eye opening experience of attending a DoDDS school in Japan, I would've hid behind those infernal stereotypes and never searched for the tolerant, socially developed person I've become today.
Peers at my new high school scoff when they hear that the Indian girl wants to be a doctor. "Aren't all Indians doctors or engineers?" they say. That is arguably a true statement, since most immigrant Indians come to the U.S. to pursue the science profession, a field that guarantees financial stability. The Indians occupying other fields of profession are probably still in India; this small, science-oriented group usually has the means to immigrate to America, lending to this delusion that everyone from India has a technical degree of some sort. Those who make such assumptions wouldn't comprehend that the utter poverty and lack of adequate health professionals in India is the real reason the girl wants to be a physician. I witnessed first hand an Indian hospital by shadowing a prominent cardiologist, and I saw the need and helplessness of people who, apprehensive of medical costs, wait until it's too late to seek necessary aid. After seeing a rail thin five year old on a feeding tube and ventilators, fighting extreme malnourishment and a respiratory illness stemming from polluted air, the allure of a hefty paycheck sits on the backburner to the pressing need of healthcare in third-world countries.
But intolerant thinking restricts such revelations, instead feeding society's blatant typecasting. No one would know that the girl taking way too many Advance Placement classes is secretly a classic rock buff, her iPod full of Led Zeppelin, Kansas, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. The golden age of mullet rock soothes her overstressed mind as she juggles school, expectations from a traditional Indian family, and the storm cloud of ambition dwelling in her heart, which demands a fulfilling life beyond the mores of a steady paycheck and 2.5 family.
It's undeniable that the "stereotype" which has tagged along for most of my life makes up a significant portion of who I am, as much as the fifteen odd countries I've visited have opened my mind to all walks of life and culture. Without facing this judgment we make so voluntarily of one another and experiencing an environment free of such pressures, I would never have embraced the person behind the label and fought to break that adolescent glass ceiling called high school hierarchy. I am blatantly aware of my race, my school standing, and what is expected of me from my family. At Edgren, I found momentary relief from the barrage of labels, but it only served to show that they're transparent, not worth agonizing over. It doesn't matter if people think I speak 'Indian' or go to sleep clutching a chemistry textbook, because I know that I am more than that Pre-Med Indian Girl. The next step begins when I grace the doors of a new academic institution, where all those 'beloved' tags are incinerated in the vortex of diverse individuals and peers gathering for one sole purpose: to reach their aspirations. Maybe there is still hope for that overachieving Indian girl, humming ACDC under her breath during play rehearsals, who dreams of the millions of possibilities ahead.
This is TOPIC OF MY CHOICE.
I've had this one edited multiple times, but I would appreciate some outside feedback. I've been told that it's a little negative/prejudiced. Help?
I guess from an objective stance I am a typical Indian "stereotype", smart overachiever with pre-med stamped all over my brown, ethnic face. I've been dismissed as a "brain" for most of my academic life, approached for homework answers and used as a human assignment planner. I tend to thrive among my own kind, with those apt at understanding my unique brand of high brow humor and frantic obsession over schoolwork. It boggles people how some students actually enjoy school, not for its gossipy social perks, but for the allure of learning something new and practical. Very few look beyond the veneer of high school hierarchy, unheeding of the people under the "jock" label or "band geek" tag. This Lilliputian thinking is especially frustrating for someone who has visited three continents and has repeatedly observed that such narrow-mindedness is not very feasible in today's diverse society. The banal labels unfortunately extend worldwide and cannot be reversed without complete social chaos.
However, as a DoDDS (Department of Defense Dependents School) kid, I encountered a new universe containing a mere ghost of this reign of pigeonhole. Moving every two years makes the depreciating labels impractical, so when I first stepped into Edgren High School in Misawa, Japan, I met with a pleasant surprise. The cliques still existed, but the boundaries were more like velvet ropes than barbed wire fences. A band geek could be the star quarterback of the football team, and the most popular girl in school could be head of the chastity club. Anything seemed possible and for the first time I got an inkling of what college, that mysterious assorted terrain of ultimate academia, might resemble.
The most significant difference discernible was the open-mindedness my peers had in vast quantities; there was an acute awareness that the world was bigger than the state border and people were essentially different. Nowhere else did I find people who wanted to look past the "stereotype" and see real human intentions. I was still essentially "the brain" whom teachers considered the failsafe for answers to questions in a cricket-quiet classroom, but in Japan I was also the smart Indian who loved to act and write skits. I was the five foot-one inch thespian who played the baritone saxophone, a vast instrument rivaling her miniscule height. I was the slightly OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) girl who didn't live in her textbooks, but had a busy life full of crazy friends and fun weekends. Without the eye opening experience of attending a DoDDS school in Japan, I would've hid behind those infernal stereotypes and never searched for the tolerant, socially developed person I've become today.
Peers at my new high school scoff when they hear that the Indian girl wants to be a doctor. "Aren't all Indians doctors or engineers?" they say. That is arguably a true statement, since most immigrant Indians come to the U.S. to pursue the science profession, a field that guarantees financial stability. The Indians occupying other fields of profession are probably still in India; this small, science-oriented group usually has the means to immigrate to America, lending to this delusion that everyone from India has a technical degree of some sort. Those who make such assumptions wouldn't comprehend that the utter poverty and lack of adequate health professionals in India is the real reason the girl wants to be a physician. I witnessed first hand an Indian hospital by shadowing a prominent cardiologist, and I saw the need and helplessness of people who, apprehensive of medical costs, wait until it's too late to seek necessary aid. After seeing a rail thin five year old on a feeding tube and ventilators, fighting extreme malnourishment and a respiratory illness stemming from polluted air, the allure of a hefty paycheck sits on the backburner to the pressing need of healthcare in third-world countries.
But intolerant thinking restricts such revelations, instead feeding society's blatant typecasting. No one would know that the girl taking way too many Advance Placement classes is secretly a classic rock buff, her iPod full of Led Zeppelin, Kansas, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. The golden age of mullet rock soothes her overstressed mind as she juggles school, expectations from a traditional Indian family, and the storm cloud of ambition dwelling in her heart, which demands a fulfilling life beyond the mores of a steady paycheck and 2.5 family.
It's undeniable that the "stereotype" which has tagged along for most of my life makes up a significant portion of who I am, as much as the fifteen odd countries I've visited have opened my mind to all walks of life and culture. Without facing this judgment we make so voluntarily of one another and experiencing an environment free of such pressures, I would never have embraced the person behind the label and fought to break that adolescent glass ceiling called high school hierarchy. I am blatantly aware of my race, my school standing, and what is expected of me from my family. At Edgren, I found momentary relief from the barrage of labels, but it only served to show that they're transparent, not worth agonizing over. It doesn't matter if people think I speak 'Indian' or go to sleep clutching a chemistry textbook, because I know that I am more than that Pre-Med Indian Girl. The next step begins when I grace the doors of a new academic institution, where all those 'beloved' tags are incinerated in the vortex of diverse individuals and peers gathering for one sole purpose: to reach their aspirations. Maybe there is still hope for that overachieving Indian girl, humming ACDC under her breath during play rehearsals, who dreams of the millions of possibilities ahead.
This is TOPIC OF MY CHOICE.
I've had this one edited multiple times, but I would appreciate some outside feedback. I've been told that it's a little negative/prejudiced. Help?
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